A Fair's Remembered

I remember when Fairs, Carnivals and Amusement Parks were much seedier and a lot more fun. Of course, I was a tyke then and a trip to one of those magical places was about as good as life could get. Was there anything more thrilling in the world than a roller coaster? And, given the chance, what kid wouldn't have spent a day in the fun house alone. For "one thin dime" I could gain entrance into any of the side shows which mostly, I thought, turned out to be "cheats" because the two headed lizard, frog, chicken, baby, pick one, was packed in a jar of formaldehyde and not walking around the room. Bearded ladies, fat women and giants were common then. They'd strike up a conversation with the crowd as it moved by gawking. They usually had some standard patter that was borderline "blue" material the adults seemed to like, but it was dull stuff to a kid. I guess I was asking a lot for my dime. I was too young then, or too short, to be allowed into the exotic dancers tent. No loss there though as I didn't really care much about girls. By the time I grew old enough to appreciate them, they were readily available in cages at the nearest Disco.

There were no floors or sidewalks at the Fairs, just dirt. I remember stepping on sticky stems from candy apples and the paper cones from cotton candy. There were too few trash barrels scattered about and the ones available seemed to be ever flowing over. The air was thick with the combined smells of the best foods in the world, hot dogs, hamburgers, fries, popcorn, taffy, caramel and cherry coated apples and cotton candy in three different colors that all tasted the same; a kid could live forever on this diet - and, of course, there was an over-riding scent we knew from our dad's favorite vice, beer. They sold it in paper cups in those days and lots of it got spilled.

Most of my memories come from visits to Fountain Ferry Amusement Park in Louisville and the Kentucky State Fair. I lived in Kentucky from the fifth through the eighth grades. We would usually go at night to "beat the heat" but it seems to me it was always hotter than the dickens anyway. One of my strongest recollections was of the entrance to the Fun House. There was a wooden railing in front and a suspension walkway into the building. Someone hidden somewhere would send an electrical current through the railing and give anyone touching it a mild shock. My dad would grab the railing and then reach out and catch me by the shoulder. I would bounce around like a crazed puppet at the end of his arm screaming let me go, let me go as the shock tingled and yes, hurt. My dad would let go, eventually, but not before he got a good laugh. The walkway was where the ladies had their skirts and dresses blown up to their waists by a blast of air shot up through the slats. Women didn't wear long pants then, although some did wear shorts. I liked watching the gals trying to hold their stuff down and scurry off the planks; not, as you might think, because it was in any way titillating, but because this kind of slapstick comedy was right up my eleven year alley. Dad and I both got our laughs.

And I would be remiss if I didn't point out that almost yearly I would stuff myself with all the food I could talk my father into buying for me and then attempt one more ride. Tossing my cookies is an almost accurate description of what followed. I say almost, because I don't really remember cookies being part of the nasty mix. Kids recover fast though and I would be well and pleading to stay longer when it was time to go home.

I'm sure the amusement experience is still just as much fun for kids today. The parks are cleaner, better and the rides are safer. I'll take my memories though. They're grittier, funkier and they smell better. C'mon, stale beer and popped corn? Smells as good today as it did then.

One last note. If you haven't read Ray Bradbury's "Something Wicked This Way Comes"...you ought to. It's the ultimate Traveling Carnival read. Spooky as hell.